There is no Saint Russell. So I am, as my Italian friend Vanessa once told me, adespota. Vanessa, who is from Le Marche, knew because she is too. With all the names in the world, and a limited number of saints to go around, many of us are.
I love the word. It means both without a patron and without a boss. This probably gives us a certain independence as we’re out there making our own choices. On the other hand, we’re out there making our own choices, which means a bit vulnerable. I wonder if this state explains more than we might recognize.
In feast-day terms, it means I don’t have one. No feast day, no name day, no celebration. But the Catholics thought of this and put all of us who have no saintly sponsor on November 1, All Saints’ Day. Very democratic! And a bit anonymous. It’s like people whose birthdays fall on some other major holiday. We’re celebrating anyway, so you’re included in the already scheduled party.
However, there is a technicality here, since my last name is in fact the first name of a saint, the one celebrated today. So maybe I can claim February 14 as my feast day, my name day? Family history helps out, as the name was changed on entering the U.S., moving from a plural (Valentini) to a singular (Valentino) and, thus, from a family name to a given Christian name, even if it applied to a whole family. It’s a technicality, as I say, but it would in effect give me two name days every year: one a little more collective in winter, the other a little more intimate on the cusp of spring. Being adespota, I probably need to decide this on my own.
Pictured: a reliquary with a stone that supposedly struck Saint Steven (stoned to death in 34 CE), in the cathedral of San Ciriaco (in Le Marche). For all the Stevens out there, his feast day falls on December 26. And don’t let them tell you your party was the day before.
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Russell Scott Valentino 